- - i'm like super offended that my chapter title didn't fit lmao. this is gonna sound stupid but do you guys remember that episode of malcolm in the middle where they played Fernando while dewey and his golden girl babysitter danced? that's the most beautiful scene in all of cinema.

Warning: This chapter contains recreational marijuana use.

Chapter 5 - Do You Still Recall The Fateful Night We Crossed The Rio Grande?

She couldn't sleep.

The conversation between Fleur and Bill sobered her up entirely too quickly. Hermione could not stop thinking about it. Fleur's personal life had been just that — personal. And entirely none of her business.

That, and the pounding headache she was harboring, was enough to drive her mad.

After an hour of tossing and turning, Hermione sat up, and placed her bare feet on the cold hardwood floor. She could do this.

As quietly as she could, Hermione blindly shuffled her way into the kitchen. She had no idea where to start; where would two respectable wizards keep their aspirin—

'Oh my god.'

What the fuck was she thinking. Wizards didn't keep aspirin. They kept potions (which had tiny labels, which she could not possibly read at this moment in time, and which could kill her).

Hermione let out a quiet huff and made her way to the living room. She dreaded the thought of bothering Fleur. What a perfect guest Hermione was, taking the hostess's room and waking her up in the middle of the night because of her own adolescent behavior with alcohol. No, she wasn't going to wake Fleur. Bill however, almost deserved to be woken up.

She neared the couches and saw Fleur (and no sight of Bill on the other couch).

Wow.

Fleur's mouth was somewhat parted as her chest rose and fell slowly in a rhythmic beat. One of her arms draped over the edge of the couch, almost touching the ground. Her blonde hair nearly covered part of her face, which was devoid of any hints of earlier stress. Sheer imperfection at its most perfect.

This must be what poets write about.

Hermione snapped out of her (slightly inappropriate) reverie, and took more notice on Bill's absence. Where the hell was he? This house wasn't by any means large, and every other room was occupied. Her headache seemed more apparent now. There was really only one place he could be.

She found Bill sitting outside in the sand, facing the sea as waves crashed quietly in the distance. His shoes were off, his hair was down, and in his hand he held something in between his fingers.

Nearing closer, Hermione could make out puffs of smoke coming from him. She didn't pin Bill as a midnight toker, although that could be because of her shit perception skills. She made her way to him, relishing in the malleability of the sand under her feet.

Reaching her destination, Hermione sat next to Bill and hugged her knees to her chest. He glanced at her sideways for a moment, and reverted his gaze back to the sea.

He wordlessly handed her the joint. Hermione panicked.

"Um. Uh, I— I've never—" she stuttered slowly.

Bill nodded. "You don't have to," he said sincerely, taking back his offer.

She didn't come here to get high, and there was now no way she was going to trust Bill in medicating her with potions.

However...

It must have been some sort of small existential crisis, or her splitting headache, that made her shake her head. "I want to."

He turned to her to catch her eyes. "You sure?"

Hermione nodded and with two fingers he passed her the joint. She looked down at it, then back up at Bill for instructions. It was unnerving not knowing how to do something. Something as juvenille as smoking.

"Just inhale, you don't have to hold it in," he said.

Hermione nodded and brought the joint to her lips. She inhaled slowly, felt the smoke intrude her throat, and coughed. Tears formed her eyes as she tried to clear her throat.

Bill gave a low chuckle and Hermione turned to look at him. "It's normal," he informed.

She handed the joint back and they fell into a comfortable silence, taking hits in turns.

Bill spoke up after a few moments.

"When I was younger, dad used to smoke tobacco in his pipe, and he would enchant the smoke."

Hermione watched as Bill took another drag. Her face felt a little numb.

"How?" she asked.

Bill brought his wand to his lips and opened his mouth to release the smoke. It swirled in itself before taking on a proper shape.

A small bird came from the concentrated smoke and moved with such etherealness that Hermione thought only a patronus could muster. It was beautiful. The bird dissipated as soon as the smoke did, and Hermione looked back to Bill.

"Modified weather suspension spell." he said, still transfixed on the clearing smoke. He held out the joint and Hermione took it in unconcealed amazement.

Bill handed her his wand and she swallowed thickly; if she fucked up her mouth because she tried to do a smoke trick while high, she probably deserved it.

"The trick is actually enchanting your lips," he said with a smile. Bill was always one for entertaining.

Hermione inhaled from the joint and pressed the tip of Bill's wand to her mouth, reciting in her head the specific charm.

"Now think about what shape you want the smoke to form, it's simple really."

She closed her eyes while exhaling, and opened her eyes. An otter appeared from the smoke and playfully danced around the area. Hermione couldn't help the fit of giggles erupting from her mouth. God she was high. And it wasn't the worst.

"An otter?" Bill chimed in, not able to keep from laughing either.

"My patronus," she supplied. Bill nodded thoughtfully for a moment. They both watched as the smoke petered out.

'I wonder what his patronus is.' Hermione thought. Was it rude to ask?

"I'm gay, Hermione."

Hermione slowly turned to Bill and squinted her eyes. "Your patronus is gay?" Fuck. That was like some next level shit.

Bill threw his head back with laughter. "No, no, no," he said between fits of chuckles. "I'm gay."

Hermione's face turned into one of horror. Thoughts raced too fast for her mind to keep up.

"Who's gonna tell Fleur?!" she whisper-shouted.

Bill continued to laugh.

"She knows, Hermione, so does my family." This didn't make any sense. At all. Was she having a bad trip? Can weed even do that?

"Fleur needed access to the country, and with this shit war, the Ministry was being a lot less friendly to foreigners." Bill explained with a shrug.

Hermione opened her mouth in shock. "You guys got married for fucking papers?!" How could he be so nonchalant about this?

Bill nodded. "She's my best friend, Hermione. My ride or die bitch." he said with a laugh. "A temporary solution, I assure you!"

Hermione flopped back into the sand, not caring for her hair or clothes. Only the night sky and stars were in her view now. 'What the actual fuck.'

Bill waved his hand before her eyes.

"Look, ain't even wearing a ring!" he said. "As for the wedding, well, it had to be believable so we wouldn't get charged with marriage fraud. There are a lot of unfriendly eyes and ears out there."

Marriage fraud. Oh god. "What could possibly be that important that she needed to be here?" Hermione asked.

Bill was quick to reply.

"If you haven't noticed, You-Know-Who isn't an isolated threat, wizards all over the world are here illegally to fight — And I didn't want Fleur to be snatched up one day because her English accent is shit."

Hermione took some time to absorb the information. Bill was kind of talking too fast right now.

"There's a lot of factors in this Hermione, and I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, we actually thought Ron had said something to you and Harry a long time ago."

Being told all this information while stoned, was kind of difficult for Hermione. Her mind raced as she tried to think of any moment in time when Bill and Fleur's antics had been in any way romantic. The only time she had ever seen them kiss was at their wedding (which was a big fucking lie apparently) and they were never engaged. Was she fucking blind?

Bill stood and offered his hand to Hermione. She simply stared at him with an open mouth.

"Come on, Fleur would kill me if she found out I gave you weed."

Hermione took his hand and he tugged her up from her stupor, as well as her spot in the sand. Ugh. Smoking weed after drinking the amount of Firewhiskey she had, was the absolute worst idea ever.

She started wiping sand away from her clothes when she grumbled, "I might kill you first."

Bill laughed good-naturedly and as they neared the cottage door he spoke with clear amusement.

"If you ever want to a girl to kiss you again, you probably need to fix your gay radar." he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Hermione gave an offended scoff and shoved him playfully. Bill couldn't stop laughing as he stumbled in the sand.

'Ok, maybe he was a little right.'

Chapter title inspired by the music of: ABBA - Fernando

- - i'm sure everyone saw that coming and i promise you guys i'm not some sort of troubled youth with pockets lined with drugs. also i blatantly used the weather suspension spell from the magicians if anyone noticed.